


Co-Workers

by caffeinatedmendes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedmendes/pseuds/caffeinatedmendes
Summary: Clarke Griffin is a highly respected editor for a large editing company. And she's got a problem. Clarke has a crush on her assistant/coworker Bellamy Blake, which definitely is not allowed. Bellamy, on the other hand, is trying to make his way up to Clarke's level of admiration but can't help sharing her same problem without knowing it. The two of them have heart-wrenching feelings for one another and don't have the guts tell each other about it.





	Co-Workers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! This is my first ever work on this platform, so please bear with anything that might be messed up, because I'm not quite used to this publishing format. Anyway, I got inspired to write a small fanfiction dedicated to Bellarke, because its still not canon yet, and we're all still crying about it. Anyway, thanks for picking this out of many other selections. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

Clarke’s fingers furiously tapped on the keyboard in front of her as Bellamy watched the cursor scroll through several paragraphs on her screen. Bellamy pointed at the monitor, “The sentence, ‘She watched as he took out his sword,’ they misspelled she. See? S-e-h.” Clarke’s blue eyes scanned the screen.

“Ah, thanks, Bell,” with another tap of her mouse, the word was fixed. Bellamy grinned as he continued to go through Clarke’s emails, checking for new deadlines on the book she was editing. That was Bellamy’s job. Managing Clarke’s deadlines for the books she edited, and occasionally helping her edit, too. Now that the office put their desks together, it was much easier to remind of her of her daily tasks and goals. “How many chapters do I have to do today?” She kept her eyes trained on the screen. 

“Four, but you have to get to chapter ten by the end of the week. That means roughly 27,000 words by Monday.” Bellamy grimaced. Clarke’s boss always gave her too much to do and work through. Keeping your mind on 27,000 words in a span of four days is like hell burning through your eyes. Bellamy glanced over at her. She wore long, black pants and a blouse that complemented her fair skin perfectly. Her blonde hair was kept in a perfectly messy bun atop her head. Bellamy gazed at her for too long and she noticed. He felt his ears burning. 

“What?” She swiveled in her chair, facing him. She looks so good today, Bellamy thought, but he forced himself to not think like that. It was helpless. They were coworkers. Bellamy looked at his desk. Anything to think about other than her. It almost complemented but clashed Clarke’s. Her’s was a flurry of colors, from a vast selection of pens in different shades and sizes in her pencil holder to the sticky notes stuck around every inch of desktop and the ever-filled coffee by her side, it was an artistic mess. His, on the other hand, had a normal amount of pens, a framed picture of him and his sister, and a to-do list that mostly involved stuff for Clarke. “Bellamy?” She prodded.

“I can help you,” he blurted, “You could give me a chapter.”

“You would do that?” She smiled.

“I’m kinda supposed to help you with whatever, it’s my job.” Bellamy watched as Clarke looked at her desktop. “Then once we’re done we can head out for lunch.”

Clarke opened her bottom desk drawer, taking a heap of pages from the compartment, “Okay then,” she leaned closer to him. Bellamy was on high alert, aware of her every move as she shuffled through the pages. “Can you do chapter six? Just mark everything in there, and I’ll transfer it to here.”

“Got it,” He grinned as he took the stack and pushed his chair back into his desk, getting to work.  
\--

It was about one o’clock when the two of them finished their chapters. As they headed to their favorite salad place for lunch, they talked about random things, what they were watching on TV now, their families, friends. Bellamy and Clarke were basically best friends, but only in a work environment. Neither of them had been to each other’s houses, done best friend things. The two of them were inseparable, but only at work. Bellamy didn’t even care that Clarke was technically in a higher position than him, because she treated him like he was in hers.

Their lunch time was sacred to the two of them. It was the only time where they were certain that Clarke’s boss wouldn’t send more emails about the deadline or check in with her in person. It also meant that Bellamy could complain about anything he wanted to her. She watched him intently as he told her what had happened to his sister a few nights before, “I walk in, and there she is, in my goddamn apartment with like ten other people I’ve never seen in by life, chugging beer and doing shots like there’s no tomorrow. Why did she go to my apartment, I have no idea, but that I was the first time I was legitimately angry at her.”

Clarke laughed, clutching her fork as she looked at his face. Bellamy’s eyes crinkled as she kept laughing, and then added, “Honestly, you should’ve joined. ‘Could’ve been fun.” Bellamy shook his head and looked out of the window at the bright sky, the sun blaring and the clouds nowhere in sight. When he looked back at Clarke, he saw that she was watching him. Clarke grinned and put another forkful of salad into her mouth, swallowing, “You always trap yourself in your head when you look outside. I’ve noticed,” She meekly responds.  
Bellamy couldn’t help but observe her. The waves that her hair so effortlessly made her face glow, the blue-ness of her eyes that twinkled when she smiled. He knew he was screwed. It was Clarke Griffin. She could have anyone she wanted, and he knew he stood no chance. Bellamy desperately tried to shove those thoughts away, and they finished their meal in comfortable silence. 

On their walk back to the office, Bellamy is reminded that it’s Thursday, and today was the day that his friends Miller, Jasper, Monty, and his sister, Octavia were forcing him to do a night out of karaoke and drinking. Something in his gut sparked up his courage as they bumped into each other, adrenaline coursing through his veins,“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I can’t walk in a straight line. I have basically no motor skills.” Nothing like a self deprecating joke to lighten up the mood, you dumbass, he thought.

“You’re okay,” Clarke laughed with him.

Bellamy cleared his throat, “Hey are you, uh, busy tonight? My friends are dragging me to a bar downtown, and you’re welcome to join. Well, I’m asking you to join.”

Clark checked an invisible watch on her arm, “I am free…” she paused, “Literally all the time. So, yes, I’d be happy to come.” She giggled as they entered the bleak office once again, getting seated at their conjoined desks. Bellamy used to hate his job before he sat next to Clarke, but now that he did, it seemed a lot less mundane in the clearly unentertaining office.  
\--  
“Raven, I have no fucking idea what I’m gonna wear.” Clarke complained, pushing her chest to fit a lace top while looking in the mirror. “On a better, note, you’re coming. Bellamy said I could bring someone, and I desperately need you as backup while I pathetically socialize.”

Raven answered from Clarke’s bed, staring at the ceiling, “Remind me why it matters? Oh yes, you have a crush on your assistant and you have no idea what to do. But, no, don’t worry,” She shook her hand in the air, “Mother Raven is here for you to finally get some sexual fulfillment.”  
“I don’t like him. And he’s not my assistant.” Clarke nearly ripped the top over her shoulders, walking around basically naked in a frenzy to find something that looked okay.

Raven pushed herself off, and busied herself in Clarke’s closet, shuffling through her shirts and pants before she pulled out a olive green tank top and a black skirt. Pushing the clothes onto Clarke’s chest, she flopped down on her bed once again. Once she got dressed, Raven smiled with satisfaction. “Now, that is a top that will distract men and women.”

Clarke had to admit, it did look good. She imagined looking at Bellamy, feeling exposed under the gaze of his dark eyes and how his skin would feel on hers- she had to stop. That was not a good choice. She had known him for what? Three months, four? Plus, he was her coworker. She’s pretty sure that isn’t allowed. 

Looking over at Raven, Clarke could see that she looked stunning. Raven’s hair was effortlessly styled into a braid that kept the top layer of her hair away from her face, letting the rest cascade along her shoulders in a waterfall of chocolate-amber brown. “You look amazing,” she said to Raven, who beamed, thanking her. “Are we going now?”

“Yes, just one more thing,” Raven stood from Clarke’s bed, and pulled the hair tie out of Clarke’s hair, letting the cropped hair frame her face. “Now we’re ready.” The girls grinned mischievously and Clarke grabbed her keys as they bounded out of her room and through the front door.  
\--  
The bar was definitely Bellamy’s style. It had a rustic feel to it with the exposed wood and craftsmen-like yellow lighting. Plus, Clarke knew Bellamy was obsessed with ferns. The bar was covered in them. They were scattered at the bar tabletop, and there was one at each table and booth. Not a trendy succulent, or even a cactus. But ferns. Bellamy has shown proof of this by presenting Clarke with his various pictures of his fern family at home. She honestly thought it was an amazing personality trait of his.  
Clarke spotted him at a booth with four people, three boys and a girl. As they approached the booth with warm smiles, she observed that Bellamy had a very different sense of style than his work clothes. He wore glasses. Glasses. Clarke knew for a fact he had 20/20 vision. What a poser, she thought. On top of that, he layered clothes better than she did, with a denim jacket over a graphic tee and paired with some bracelets on his wrists. They looked meaningful, with numbers on them. Probably birthdays.

“Bellamy, I’d like to introduce you and your friends to my friend, Raven,” Raven gave a little wave as Clarke announced this. Bellamy smiled and beckoned them to get in the booth. Clarke sat next to the girl, who had piercing blue eyes and dark black hair. Raven sat next to a rather goofy looking guy with a boyish hairstyle that was strewn about.

“Sorry, I’m so bad at introducing people,” Bellamy chuckled and directed the girls to his friends, “This is Miller, Monty, and Jasper.” He nodded to a guy with a warm smile first and dark brown eyes, a pale guy with neatly combed hair, and the boyish one, who already seemed to make friends with Raven by the way she smiled. “And this is my sister, Octavia.”

As the introductions went around, Clarke seemed to categorize each person more intensely with every drink she had, and summed up after three hours of drinks; Miller was a sweet guy who worked with the police department and was best friends with Bellamy, Monty, a really quiet guy but super smart, worked as a biologist in the university not far from their city, Arkadia, and Jasper worked in restoring paintings and other old artifacts with many historical societies. It seemed fitting for him, considering his thoughtful but playful personality. Octavia was a fiercely independent person and worked as a firefighter, and so she and Miller crossed paths often in their professions.

“Are we going to do karaoke now?” Jasper giggled as he sipped his drink.

Raven grimaced, “I am not. You do not want to hear me sing.”

“Lame, I’ll do it with you,” Octavia gave a warm smile as she and Jasper got out of the booth. Clarke was sat next to Bellamy now, watching the two of them sing their out of tune rendition of ‘Set Fire to the Rain’ by Adele. 

Raven laughed while Monty recorded them behind her, watching as each of them awkwardly swayed to the music. On one of the high notes, Jasper’s voice cracked, leaving everyone to laugh so hard they were crying. After they had finished, Octavia took the chance to grab one of Bellamy and Clarke’s hands as she pulled them out of the booth. “No, no, no, O, I don’t sing. I reaaaaaally don’t sing.” Bellamy’s vowels seemed to slur with every passing second.

“Same here,” Clarke looked at Octavia with helpless eyes. She refused. 

“Come sing, I’ll even pick the song,” Octavia flipped through the plastic pages that sat before the raised platform. By the now the bar was much more populated, which made Clarke even more uncomfortable. “Ooh! How about ‘Into You’? Some Ariana Grande?” This was replied with many yeses from their friends and many nos from Clarke and Bellamy, but Octavia made them sing it anyway. Groaning, Bellamy handed Clarke a microphone, flipping off his friends. They all smirked back. Raven winked at Clarke, sending a storm of redness to her face, as if the alcohol wasn’t already doing enough.

“I’m so into you, I can barely breathe,” Clarke silently cursed at Octavia from her stance.

“And all I want to do, is to fall in deep,” Bellamy looked sick from where Clarke stood. By the chorus, they realized how stupid this was and just exaggerated every line the sang, trying to imitate Ariana Grande’s runs and whistle notes that were not even in the song. By the time they finished, the entire bar’s population was laughing so hard that it even sobered the two a little bit.

When they returned, everyone decided they’d already had enough for the night. They all had to work the next day, and were regretting waking up. Raven left first, getting a cab back to her place, and Monty and Jasper left for their apartment. Miller left with Octavia to share a cab, which left Bellamy and Clarke by themselves in the booth.

“You need a ride?” Bellamy asked. Clarke choked on her glass of water. “I’m kidding. But seriously, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll walk. I only live like ten minutes from here.”

“I don’t want to let you go by yourself. I can walk you home.” Bellamy payed for their drinks and began to stand up.

Clarke waved him off, “Okay, but you might as well stay at my place. It’s too late anyway.” She had no idea what gave her this surge of confidence, but she went with it, considering the firsts they had experienced already that night. Bellamy thanked her and they left the bar, Clarke turning left with him. Taking another left and then a right in the darkness, they arrived at her apartment complex. They slowly climbed the staircase; they were still stumbling a bit from the night’s activities. As Clarke opened the door she felt strange, because out of the corner of her eye, Bellamy looked at her for longer than a quick glance. She ignored it, assuring herself it was the alcohol.

“My couch is a pullout, so let me get some blankets and a pillow for you.” Clarke went to the linen closet near her bathroom and came back with a heap of blankets. 

Bellamy smiled, graciously taking the covers, “Thanks, Clarke.”

“Of course,” Clarke busied herself with pulling out the couch and placing the blankets along it before she could look too long at Bellamy, and once it was made, Bellamy sat down. “There’s water bottles in the fridge, bathroom’s the first right down the hallway, and if you need anything else, just knock on my door.”

Bellamy nodded and smiled, “Seriously, thanks. I can get coffee in the morning if you want.”

“Sure. Goodnight, Bellamy.” Clarke began to walk to her bedroom door.

Before she could go inside, he replied, “Goodnight, Clarke.”


End file.
